Fastrack Soldier of sorrow
by ToaVeka
Summary: Nighthunter Commander Fastrack is a hero to all who know her, she perfect, flawless... At least, so she seems, in truth, Fastrack has a hidden secret that has been been accidently discovered by one of her fellow Nighthunters... What will he do?
1. I never knew

This is not the Fastrack from my writers-blocked G1 fic "NEVER AGAIN" I reused the name. THESE ARE ALL OCs EVEN IF THEY SHARE THE NAMES OF SOME G1 CHARACTERS!! this is very important... I took the names and some personality traits off my fave G1 characters and turned them into Nighthunters (Aka, I made them part of my own universe)  
If you read Airstrike's ( www . fanfiction . net/u/1457630/ ) stories... this is in the same universe (We're friends and RP our characters off each other sometimes...)

-Excerpt from the diary of Fastrack, Commander of the Nighthunter Elite-

_Why is it that I am so good at recognizing other peoples' depression? Their misery, their joy, their hidden emotions? Why is it I can see them, and help those with negative emotions so easily when I am unable even slightly alleviate my own depression?_

_Depression is a fact of life for me it seems. I cannot remember when it was that I started becoming depressed, only that I did. Now, it is the bane of my existence, for, I cannot get rid of it; my status as the fifth highest ranked member of the Valacytronian species means that I cannot easily go to someone to be reassured. Too many rely on me, it is a great honour and a terrible burden; I do my best to deserve the many titles and privileges I have._

_Perhaps this is the root of my depression; perhaps I work too hard. But I have been given time to be myself many a time before, and yet, that did nothing... I have before managed to alleviate my suffering. It is always the same, when I find another who is upset or depressed, I help them… and in helping them, I lift some of my pain for a while. Am I being self-serving then? I do not know._

_I'll never understand… How do the others smile so easily? How can they be so happy? I am, to them, an optimist, a fearless leader, and true warrior. I am none of those things… I am not fearless; I am afraid of many things; afraid that I will allow my depression to get the best of me someday. I work hard to conceal it from every one: from my best friend, from my Second in Command, even from my former Boyfriend._

… _Funny, I haven't thought of him like that for so long… Not since we left the academy. We never fought, never said anything, we just… Drifted apart somehow. Maybe I should talk to him; he is a commander too after all. And he's known me longer than anyone. But I can't; I'm his commander now, he looks to me to be cool and collected… Once, I was the one who listened to him, who was his second opinion… How times change…_

_What can I do? I have no one to turn safely to about my depression. I've considered everyone I know, and there is not a being out there who could help me. I know that I'm not as bad as I was a few months ago though… That's something at least. Helping the Freelancers really did cheer me up… I think… that I really was truly happy for a few hours after that… That is a memory I will hold very dear for the rest of my life._

-End Excerpt-

First Aid rubbed the bridge of his nose on disbelief. He flat out couldn't believe it. Fastrack depressed? It couldn't be. He must have misread. Well aware that he shouldn't be snooping around in his commander's quarters, much less her private diary, he warily glanced around before pursuing the diary again. He opened a page at random and found an entry dated about eight Earth months previous, right around the time that there had been a great celebration. He remembered how much he'd seen Fastrack smiling and laughing then.

-Excerpt-

_Finally the day is over. It's painful to have to pretend to be happy when I'm not. It's so difficult, living like this; those earthen fireworks were beautiful beyond compare, and yet… I couldn't enjoy them, not when I was so very miserable. Why does life do this to me? I seek no leave from it, for I love life to much, yet I cannot shake this sadness that has clung to me for as long as I have been an elite, and probably before that._

_I do feel content when I'm surrounded by beauty, I do get some pleasure out of watching a sunset. But it is always there, at the back of my mind. This dark cloud of sadness and pain that I cannot ever be rid of. Sometimes I wonder if it's spark damage. Can Black Energon damage to the spark cause depression?_

First Aid looked up for a second. Could it? Fastrack's diary showed very clearly that while she was depressed, she refused to let it rule her. He couldn't help feeling a kind of awe-filled respect for her, tinged with sorrow, and maybe even pity at the thought of what life must be like for her. Maybe it was spark damage. Now curious, as well as concerned for his friend's health, he continued reading.

_I've certainly been damaged by Black Energon weapons enough times. I cannot count my scars, nor do I want to… I'm not "emo" as the humans call it, and I refuse to be. Some day, some way, I will release myself from this… but not through death or betrayal. Never._

-End Excerpt-

First Aid glanced up when he heard footsteps. Quickly, he replaced Fastrack's diary and made as if he were looking for something on the other side of the room, which he was supposed to be doing anyways. He found what he'd been looking for, Fastrack's ceremonial white robes, and quickly left her quarters. He nodded to Strafe and received a smile from the Lieutenant in return.

"Evnin' Aid."

"You too Strafe," Replied First Aid pleasantly. "You're off shift then?"

"Yep, just got off. You bringing Fastrack her robes?"

"Yes."

"Feh… I'll never understand robes. Why do they make us elite wear them? They look ridiculous."

"I have no idea." First Aid walked down the hall to wear Fastrack was talking with Windstorm and Saberwing. "Here you are Commander, sorry it took so long."

Fastrack smiled at him and took the robes. "Thanks First Aid. Yes, it is a mess in there isn't it? Guess my commanderly duties are getting in the way of my cleanliness ones." She laughed. First Aid laughed too out of habit, but for the first time, he wondered if his commander really was laughing, or if she was wearing a mask. He also wondered if taking that mask off would really help her.


	2. Reflections

Meh, so much for Soldier of Sorrow being a oneshot... Ah well.

Okay, these are not G1 characters, these are fan characters who share names and some personality triats of my fave TFs, heresy to some of you I'm sure... Whatever...

* * *

-Excerpt from Fastrack's diary-

_There's something odd about the Sparkling, I can't place my finger on it, but Flash has a weird feel to him. It's not bad, just different, so I'm not planning on drawing any sort of attention to it, besides, I'm sure Mach and Shadowcat can sense it too, judging on how they act around him. It's like he has some sort of physic magnate that draws us to him. I'm trying to remember where I've sensed an energy field like his before._

_Although I shouldn't really focus on that too much, considering the situation we're in… The Freelancers are in a state of shock from Napalm's betrayal, and personally, I don't blame them. Although I DID warn Airstrike, why didn't he listen to me?_

_Oh well, the damage is done. Now we have to stop this. I don't want to have to tell the Freelancers that really, this shouldn't be any of their business; our job was to find this "Darkness" and they turned out to be a lead… Its just chance that we ran into them like this… By Autobot law, we should report these neutrals to Prime and ask them (Aka force them) to come to Cybertron. Good thing we're not Autobots. Valacytronian law has a lot more sense in this situation; besides, my rank means I won't get in trouble for this…Even if it didn't, I wouldn't ever report them._

_Rank, Primus I hate pulling rank. But if I have to I will, all sentient beings, regardless of origins have the right to choose for themselves. Besides, they can help us, and us them… And I like the Freelancers; they're a lot nicer and more accepting than the Autobots. HA! Every time I hear one of Prime's speeches, I have to work at not laughing. The Autobots ideals are excellent, but they either follow them to exactly and forget what real compassion is, or they try to hard, and do more wrong than right… Like they nearly did on Velocitron. Pity for the Decepticons that we were ready for them…_

-End Excerpt-

First Aid looked up at the sound of footsteps, but it was just his fellow medic, coming back from his shift.

"Good read?" Asked the older mech.

First Aid made a noncommittal sound and discreetly turned the copy that he'd made of Fastrack's diary away. Ratchet, a behavioural strategist, couldn't help but notice. "So, what is it?"

First Aid considered ordering his friend to go away, he DID outrank Ratchet, but he knew that would lead to a very awkward situation. Instead, he shrugged. "It's for medical purposes." He said. He wasn't lying, he was worried about Fastrack's mental health, and it WAS actually commonplace for a medic to request to see part of a soldier's private diary… Mind, First Aid hadn't gotten permission, or even asked for that matter.

Ratchet tilted his head curiously, he'd worked with First Aid long enough to know that f First Aid didn't tell him outright, the CMO was being evasive. "I know that… But what IS it?"

First Aid sighed in resignation. "Swear on your honour as my friend you won't tell ANYone?"

Ratchet stiffened unconsciously. First Aid knew Ratchet kept all secrets, and those rare times he had needed to make certain of that, he'd always called on Ratchet honour as a Nighthunter or as a medic, but as a friend? And the emphasis meant that it was something that command probably wouldn't like. But then, First Aid was extremely loyal to Fastrack, heck, the pacifist would even use a weapon if Fastrack ordered it, so it couldn't be that bad. "I swear First Aid." He picked up and energon cube and took a mouthful.

First Aid nodded. "It a copy of Fastrack's diary." Ratchet choked on his energon. First Aid gave him a sharp whack on the joint where Ratchet's neck joined his torso.

"WHAAAAAT?" Ratchet looked at his friend like he was crazy.

First Aid sighed. "You know how I was sent to get some stuff out of her quarters the other day?" Ratchet nodded warily. "Well, her diary was there and I accidentally… Okay, I was curious and opened it at random. Let's face it, we all want to know how she thinks."

Ratchet gave a guilty shrug. "True."

First Aid looked down. "Well, I was shocked… Ratchet, our Commander has been chronically depressed for most of her life."

Ratchet blinked. "Hunh?"

First Aid handed the datapad to his friend. "Read it."

Ratchet selected a date at random and started reading.

-Excerpt-

_Another day, another successful mission. I'm very pleased with the Aerialbots, they haven't failed my expectations, quite the opposite in fact. A good thing, since they seem to bicker more often than I remember from before the Academy. I was surprised, but glad, to learn that they're a combiner team now, Jetstorm was a formidable fighter. They were all so very pleased with themselves. I was pleased for them too, but sad._

_I was sad because I remember how they used to be, before they were soldiers… How I was back then… Were we ever different. I was happy, I remember that, I have the pictures still, even that one Slingshot threatened us all to burn. I know we all kept it._

Ratchet paused. "What picture I wonder?" He looked back down.

I think Slingshot just couldn't accept that he got beaten in a flying race by a desert Velocitronian… I remember looping around him to make fun of him afterwards, Primus, was he mad! And then Airraid pounced him, and then Fireflight… I love that picture, I don't know how Skydive caught that exact instant where Slingshot has just realized he's about to get dogpiled with Airraid just above him with arms outstretched and that evil grin of his. That expression that was on Slingshot face has to be the funniest thing in existence. It makes me snicker, even now. For which I thankful, I don't really find much funny any more, just upsetting.

-End Excerpt-

Ratchet handed the datapad back to First Aid. "I see your point my friend. She doesn't focus on it, but it obviously there."

"It is terrible, and yet, we can't do anything about it." Sighed the CMO sadly. Ratchet nodded miserably. "I wonder if it IS spark damage."

"Well, as that is my field of expertise, let me say… Possibly." Answered Ratchet. "It's almost impossible to tell how damage to the spark will affect someone."

"Could it be repaired you think?"

"I don't know, I'd have to see her spark, and I don't think that's gonna happen." Ratchet looked at his tools for a second. "We only check Sparks if there's cause for concern, and we can't drag anyone, much less our Commander in here because we have suspicions… Even if she wouldn't care… Bet she would though, since we're reading her diary."

First Aid winced at the thought of what would happen if they were caught. It wasn't liked they be physically punished, far from it. But there would be consequences, the worst of which (to them) was that their Commander would never see them as trustworthy as she did now again. But, as medics, they needed to find some way to help her…

"Well, maybe someday we'll get the chance," He said quietly. "Until then, we never speak of this again." With that, he dropped the copy of Fastrack's diary into an incinerator, both out of self-preservation and out of a desire to let Fastrack her own secrets.

Ratchet nodded mournfully. "Yeah, I'm sure we'll be able to help her someday. It's the least we can do for her."

* * *

And voila! I may or may not write another chapter! please do leave a review, although flames WILL be sent to the G1 Lambos' hit list... I warn you.


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